


And So It Goes

by Blizzardsoflizzards



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Drinking, Everything-Going-Surprisingly-Well AU, F/F, Fluff, Halloween, Timeline? What Timeline?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-13
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 19:06:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16980108
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Blizzardsoflizzards/pseuds/Blizzardsoflizzards
Summary: After a long night of Halloween celebration, Moira and a very tipsy Angela walk back to their hotel room together.





	And So It Goes

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! This is my first foray into Overwatch and hoo boy the lore is all over the place. I'm going to say from the get-go that I'm not really focusing on making things fit into Blizzard's weird-ass canon timeline. This one was just for fun, anyway. Hope you enjoy!

“For the last time, I am not that drunk!”

 

Admittedly, the slight slur in Angela’s voice was a dead giveaway. She had never been a good liar to begin with, and the slightest amount of libation was known to send her into a leaning/giggling fit. As it was she was, as the kids these days said, completely blasted. She nudged Moira slightly as they did a sort of stagger-walk down the sidewalk back towards their hotel and got a nudge in return/

 

“If you insist, I could easily walk ahead and-” Moira began.

 

“Now hold on a moment!” Said Angela. “Let’s not get hasty.”

 

Moira let out a chuckle but didn’t say anything. With how much she was supporting Angela as they walked, she didn’t need to.

 

“I might, perhaps, have had one too many,” Angela said slowly, attempting decent diction. “And for the record, I am very grateful for your assistance.”

 

They stopped for just a moment so Moira could lean down and press a kiss to the bridge of Angela’s nose. Angela felt the cool sensation of some of Moira’s ghastly banshee makeup smearing off onto her forehead and looked up to find a wistful smile pulling at the edges of her partner’s mouth. It was adorable, terrifying banshee ensemble be damned. Angela smiled back, holding Moira’s gaze for just a few extra moments before looking forward again.

 

“That is precisely what I am here for,” Moira said with an unmistakable hint of smugness. “And not that it matters, but I did tell you this would happen.”

 

Angela would have rolled her eyes if her vision weren’t already spinning.

 

“I suppose you’ve won the right to gloat a bit. In fairness, it seemed like a perfectly reasonable decision at the time!”

 

“You let the engineer’s daughter challenge you to a drinking contest! Surely you could have forseen how that was going to go.”

 

“They cannot say I didn’t try, at least!”

 

Moira chuckled again.

 

“If it makes you feel any more accomplished, I was quite impressed.”

 

Angela giggled. Moira was right, letting Bridgitte goad her into a challenge was foolish. The idea had first been raised as a joke, but when Brigitte rose to the challenge, Angela felt the need to do the same. At the time Moira had advised caution, and Angela had even made eye contact with Reinhardt from across the room for just long enough for him to shake his bearded head and then sink back into his tankard of mead.

 

She did it anyway. Why not? Halloween only came once a year, after all.

 

Now she was tipsy as a hummingbird and being walked home by her girlfriend. It reminded her of her early college days, so long ago.

 

“You know, I think it just may.” Angela said. “I’m a people pleaser, after all.”

 

Moira laughed.

 

“Once the crowd got involved, I knew there was little hope that you’d bow out.”

 

Angela had no comeback. Moira was right. She had almost turned down Brigitte’s challenge, but having her friends and co-workers chanting her name brought out a side of Angela that few in Overwatch had seen.

Angela shivered slightly in the evening air, rubbing her exposed arms for warmth. Her witch costume was great fun, but it offered little protection from the chill of the evening air. Angela scooted herself closer to Moira, who seemed perfectly comfortable despite her outfit mostly consisting of sheer material that flowed behind her. Moira put an arm around Angela’s shoulders.

 

“Let us keep moving,” Moira said. “The sooner we get inside, the sooner you can warm up and get some rest.”

 

Angela responded by nuzzling into Moira’s core.

 

“So long as we walk slowly. You’re warm and I’m not letting go now.”

 

Moira smiled.

 

“Bargain struck.”

 

And thus, the stagger-walk began anew.

 

As they swayed and stumbled their way towards their hotel, Angela began reflecting. Truth be told, she had known where she was going to wind up this particular. She was a grown woman and a doctor; she knew precisely where her alcohol tolerance took a nosedive. She had continued anyway. Half as a bid to enjoy the party and half to escape from the stresses of her day-to-day duties.

 

She had been looking forward to the annual Halloween party for months, as it was one of the few times her schedule allowed her to relax and indulge. Tensions had been high of late, and it seemed like Angela was putting in overtime almost every day of the week. Between the routine maintenance required for both of the Shimadas cybernetics, Lena’s weekly checkups to monitor both her physical health and her adjustments to her chronal accelerator, and the host of flu symptoms beginning to show now that the weather was getting colder, it seemed that every waking hour of Angela’s days was spent as Dr. Zeigler, leaving Angela to quietly stress-nap in her office whenever she could.

 

Her vision swayed to and fro as they walked, and Angela felt as though she were standing on the deck of a ship at sea. Perhaps it had been foolish of her to get to the level of intoxication she currently occupied. Perhaps she could have easily enjoyed the evening with a light buzz. Perhaps, perhaps. It all felt like white noise now, and she would have time for regrets when she woke up with the inevitable hangover tomorrow. For tonight: It was Halloween, damn it, and she had enjoyed herself.

 

She looked over to say something to Moira, but Moira had briefly adopted a glassy, faraway look.

 

“Love?” Angela asked. “Is everything okay?”

 

Moira blinked a few times and refocused her attention on Angela.

 

“All is well. I simply got lost in thought for a moment.”

 

“Is it anything you would like to talk about?”

 

Moira opened her mouth, but no sound came out for a few moments.

 

“I… Perhaps not here. Not now. But believe me when I say that I thoroughly enjoyed my time with you this evening.”

 

Angela smiled at her and Moira returned the affection by giving Angela a squeeze. Her face still looked grim and spectral, but she did appear to be genuinely smiling. It was hard to gauge Moira’s mood at the best of times with her immaculate posture and diction, to say nothing of the thick layer of grey makeup that currently covered her face. Angela had been with her for several years now and liked to think she had come to know her partner well. Tonight, though? If Moira O’Deorain was difficult to pin down, the Banshee was as intangible as her namesake.

 

When the two weren’t dancing or making small-talk with the other couples present, Moira could be seen gliding from spot to spot, fixing herself drinks and weaving among party-goers with ease. Occasionally she would appear behind Angela out of nowhere, offering plates of various appetizers and generally terrifying whoever Angela happened to be talking to. (Lena swore loudly, Hana said something quite rude in Korean. Poor Mei yelped and fell over.)

 

“Take all the time you need.” Angela said. “I will be here.”

 

Moira said nothing, but seemed to appreciate the sentiment.

 

At last their hotel was in sight, a massive twelve-story chateau accented with marble columns. As they approached, the sliding glass doors parted and a rush of warm air greeted them. Angela remained attached to Moira, if only because she had gotten used to walking in step with her and didn’t want to shake up the routine now that they were so close to their room.

 

“Greetings, valued guest!” chirped the Omnic behind the front desk. “Is there any way I can assist you this evening?”

 

“Send a case of water up to Room 509, as well as several orders of toast and a ‘do not disturb’ sign.”

 

“Can do!” the Omnic responded. “Thank you for booking your stay with-”

 

“Yes, yes, much obliged. That’ll be all.”  


Moira helped Angela into the elevator and pressed the button for the fifth floor. As the doors slid closed and the elevator began to ascend, Angela heard the sound of humming coming from beside her. She looked up to find Moira’s eyes closed and a slight smile on her face. She was humming along to the elevator music under her breath. The track was a standard stringed instrumental cover of a tune that Angela immediately recognized, but she was too far gone to place the name of the song.

 

Angela leaned onto Moira’s shoulder, feeling the faint buzz of Moira’s humming through her core. It was soothing, hypnotizing even. It was a fairly rare occurrence, but oh, how she loved to hear Moira sing. Her voice was deep and melodic, and it took Angela away to a place of peace and comfort.

 

Angela again had difficulty placing the name of the song, but she knew the tune well enough. It had played over the speakers at the costume party, and Moira had sat with Angela, listening with a content look on her face. Her ghostly white makeup still made it hard to gauge her expression, but she had softened up considerably when they had grabbed a table with Hana and Brigitte. There they had sat, sequestered off near the snack table, making pleasant conversation and chatting of familiar things. Moira had even been convinced (after a double whiskey) to put on Angela’s witch hat. She hadn’t taken it off yet.   
There was a brief hitch in the rhythm, and for just a second Moira flinched. Then, she took a quick breath and struck up the tune again. Concern lined Angela’s face, but she didn’t ask for the time being. Though she said nothing, Angela got the feeling that Moira was grateful for her silence. Instead of saying anything, Angela grabbed Moira’s hand and squeezed it. Moira planted a kiss on her cheek, again smearing Angela with face paint. Angela took notice that Moira’s right hand was twitching something fierce. Moira said nothing, so Angela said nothing. Perhaps once they were somewhere private Moira would feel more comfortable talking about it.

 

The elevator slid to a stop. The transition was smooth, but Moira tensed as though expecting a sudden lurch. Angela gave her left arm a gentle squeeze. A look that was hard to place passed briefly across Moira’s face and she squeezed back before shepherding Angela out of the area like an unreasonably drunk sheep.

 

They reached their room with little trouble, save for Angela’s unsteady walking pace. The alcohol in her system had switched gears on her, and she now felt nothing so pressing as her need to use the restroom and then flop into bed to cover herself with a nice warm blanket. She tried to avoid dozing where she stood as Moira checked the various hidden pockets sewn into her banshee outfit for their room key.

 

“I could have sworn I- Ah-ha!”

 

Angela saw Moira reach into one of her billowing sleeves and pull from it the slim little electronic keycard she searched for. At last, the door was unlocked.

 

Angela found her footing and stumbled into the restroom, closing the door behind her and flicking on the lights before fiddling with the skirt of her costume. It was in this moment that she felt thoroughly grateful she was not wearing her wings. When her needs were seen to, she washed her hands and splashed herself in the face with a bit of water. It helped brace her sleepy mind enough to get to the door and open it. She even remembered to flick the lights off on her way out.

 

The new struggle: Getting across the room to the luxuriously-sized mattress. She made the trip with only one instance of bumping into a bedside table, and thankfully Moira was quick enough to save the lamp.  
Angela sat on the edge of the bed and fought her urge to just lie back and fall asleep in the top half of her costume. It would wrinkle the material something terrible, but she was almost tired enough that she didn’t care. She listened to the sound of water running from the sink as Moira washed off her makeup and tried not to fall asleep.

 

‘Not yet.’ She told herself. ‘Need to get undressed first. This outfit was custom-tailored.’

 

“I could use some assistance,” Angela murmured sleepily as she heard the tap switch off.

 

Wiping her face with a hand towel, Moira sauntered into the room.

 

“Trouble with the zipper again?”

 

“Not exact- yes.” Angela was too spinny for pride.

 

“At your service.” Moira swooped in and deftly unzipped Angela’s outfit from armpit to hip, then helped her wiggle out of her various layers of cloth and leather. It took quite a bit longer than it perhaps should have, but Angela was tired and drunk and just wanted to lay down to sleep at this point.

 

There was a knock at the door and the item delivery slot dispensed a case of bottled water with two plates of toast and a small sign. Moira swiftly crossed the room and picked up the sign, going to the door to hang it on the outside knob. This done, she retrieved three of the six bottles and the toast and set them on the bedside table. She prodded Angela to get her to sit up a bit and pressed a bottle into her hands.  


“Drink up,” said Moira. “At least one bottle before you fall asleep, and another when you wake up. I’ll put the rest in the fridge.”  


“You are a blessing,” Angela said with a yawn as Moira returned. “Come lay down with me?”  


Moira’s smile faded a bit.  


“I… I think I may be up a while longer.”

  
She scratched at her right forearm, perhaps subconsciously. Even in her stupor, Angela understood.  


“That’s all right, love. Take all the time you need.”

 

Moira helped Angela get her legs into bed and pulled the covers over her.

  
“I will sit with you until you fall asleep, however. It brings me peace to see you comfortable and safe.”

  
Angela scooted over on the bed a bit to let Moira sit beside her. She felt Moira’s hand rest upon her waist, gently drifting back and forth. Angela snuggled up to Moira, taking in her body heat and letting her mind begin to drift.  


“Oíche mhaith, darling,” she heard Moira say. “I will try to join you soon.”

  
A smile crossed Angela’s face.

  
“Don’t be long.”

  
With that, she laid her head down and slipped into the void of blissful sleep.

 

***

 

As she watched her partner’s form softly stir atop the bed, Moira felt an almost painful sense of longing. She badly wished that it was ever as simple as just laying down and going to bed. She didn’t even know what time it was, but she was certain she’d been up for at least an hour. She wanted to crawl in bed with her partner and hold her as close as she could, but for now she had other things to worry about. For reasons yet to be ascertained, the pains seemed to come all the stronger at night.

 

Another spike of pain shot through her arm. She gritted her teeth and fought to keep silent, digging her sharpened fingernails into the fabric of one of the room’s armchairs. Her breath came in slow, measured intakes intercut by hitched gasps when the next wave of pain came through.

 

‘Be contained,’ she told herself. ‘Be silent.’

 

Moira rode out the waves for she wasn’t sure how long. She fixed her gaze on the lights across the way, staring until she felt herself mentally detach from the pain. She sat this way and entered a state that was close to meditative. The pain brought sensation, even if it was negative. The searing made her present, even if she would rather be at rest.

 

Eventually, the pain subsided enough that she could breathe semi-normally. She took a deep breath, cleared her throat, and stood up slightly shakily. Now was the time for a drink.

 

Moira went to the small refrigerator in their suite and retrieved from it a small bucket of ice and a bottle of bourbon she’d ordered earlier that day. She searched around for the glass that the bottle had been sent with and found it on the coffee table.

 

Moira moved as silently as she could to avoid waking Angela, picking up the glass and lingering a little to watch her girlfriend’s breath rise and fall.

 

She returned to her chair and set the bucket on the table before taking the bottle and uncorking it. She poured herself a double and downed it with poise, exhaling and shaking her head a bit before pouring another to sip.

 

The pain would come and go, but the drink would keep the edge away for now. Perhaps if she imbibed enough she would be able to join Angela sooner rather than later. Moira turned on the radio sitting on the coffee table and turned the volume down to a whisper.

 

The song that struck up softly was one that Moira knew, and for a few moments she felt her heart break just as it had the first time she’d heard it. It had been so long ago.

 

Moira stood and silently paced across the room, grabbing the blanket that Angela had kicked aside in her sleep and pulling it up until it reached Angela’s shoulders. A contented smile spread across her   
sleeping face and Moira smiled back, if only for a moment.

 

Angela’s eyes opened just a bit, bleary with sleep.

 

“Coming to bed?” Angela asked.

 

“Soon, love. I promise.”

 

“Alright,” Angela murmured before rolling over. “I will hold you to that.”

 

“I certainly hope so. For now, rest.”

 

Angela let out a sleep-filled ‘mm-hmm’ before settling back into her pillow.

 

Moira sat back into her chair and sipped her drink, taking in the city skyline visible through the partially open blinds. She could be anywhere doing anything this night, but nothing and nowhere could compare to what Moira had here in this hotel room.

 

As her gaze turned back to Angela, she felt as though she had made the right choice by coming back. There would be consequences, to be certain, but that was a problem for another time.

 

Moira O’Deorain smiled and blew Angela’s sleeping form a kiss.

 

“Sleep well, love,” she said softly. “I’ll be watching over you.”

 


End file.
